


Robotics

by mochisquish



Category: Fallout: New Vegas, The Avengers (2012), Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-09
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-09 12:58:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochisquish/pseuds/mochisquish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the height of his success, Kevin Flynn announced he had something that would change the world.  Twenty years after his disappearance, Sam’s sudden and unexpected takeover of his father’s business has Tony Stark wondering what really changed his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation of an earlier drabble. It was originally just Tron and Avengers but I have a feeling it’s going to become a clusterfuck of crossovers. Not sorry.

Sam was at an event he didn’t care to attend with people he didn’t care to meet.  The young CEO garnered much attention, received many offers, both business and pleasure, but wasn’t sold on any of them.  Someone ordered him a drink – a free drink at a free bar that he could have gotten himself – and it was then the laughter came because this was getting ridiculous.

The owner of Stark Industries waited patiently for him to accept, a smirk of his own painting his face.  Sam had seen him from afar, held silent admiration for the hero but wasn’t one to leap at the chance to hobnob with celebrities.  Tony had a way about him with his mussed hair and fine, fitted suits, and the way his lips curled when he claimed, “I am Iron Man,” which he did often while intoxicated and in the presence of women.

“Young Mr. Flynn,” he greeted, throwing out a hand for Sam to shake.  “Been looking for you.  I have a proposal.”

Sam took a sip of the brandy gifted him, swallowed hard to encourage the burn down his throat.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, ENCOM doesn’t deal in robotics.  We make video games and operating systems.”

“Actually, I’m in need of a good typing program, maybe a solitaire application I can access from the suit.  Can you whip up something like that?”

Sam raised a playful eyebrow.  “I doubt Tony Stark needs help programming solitaire.”

“Y’know, Sam – I’m just gonna call you Sam – there have long been rumors that your father developed something revolutionary.”

There was a pause, eyes trailing over Tony’s face, unreadable past his smile.  “I don’t know anything about that.”

“If you want to be a part of something bigger, if you want to help people…” he trailed off, took a moment to gauge the boy’s reaction.  “You could be my sidekick, or rather, my mechanic, or really, the person who supplies the mechanic with the tools he needs.  You could be my foreign auto parts salesman.”

They both chuckled and Sam shook his head, attention directed at the deep amber liquid in his grasp.  Tony came closer suddenly, head cocked until he practically licked Sam’s ear when he spoke.

“If it could be used for evil, if it has to be protected, you can come to me,” he whispered, and Sam’s jaw clenched and heat rose in his cheeks.  He slipped the drink silently onto the table.

“There’s nothing like that…”

“There’s no mind control machine, no shrink ray?”

“No.”

Tony shrugged, downed the last of the spirit in one satisfied gulp, then took Sam’s full glass before offering his hand again.  A business card poked Sam’s palm as the other handed it off mid-shake.  It was clean and generic with contact information that could be found on the internet, and Sam thought little of it.

The iron man raised Sam’s glass in a toast, said simply, “Ideas can be dangerous too.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sam threw up a finger as he went for the phone and Ed reluctantly shut up.  Their five minute meeting was now at 40 minutes and counting, and Ed scoured the empty seats around the boardroom table, jealous of all the bodies that were not in them.

Sam formed some weird attachment to him, which, Ed could only assume, was due to the closeness in their ages.  It was clear early on he had little idea what he was doing and rather than admit his shortcomings to the more prestigious and established members of the company, he sought mentoring from Ed and Alan.

Ed was a young businessman, fighting his way to the top, who, Sam thought, would be sensitive to the struggles of other young businessmen, and he could do little but trust Ed wouldn’t judge him.  But Ed did judge Sam.  He judged him a lot.

“I’ve already spoken with Mr. Stark,” Sam groaned.  The voice of his secretary could be heard clearly even from Ed’s distance – not difficult when the woman sounded like a screech owl on acid.  He finished, “You can tell him he got his answer,” and hung up before another squawk.

Ed visibly straightened.  “Mr. Stark?”

“I’m not interested.”

“In what?”

“He came up to me at that gala Saturday night; asked some weird questions about my dad.” There was a wave of the hand as if he could erase the ordeal from memory. “I don’t know what he wanted but I don’t trust him and I’m not dealing with it.”

Ed’s mouth fell open and he made no effort to close it.

“One of the most powerful men in the world wanted to talk business and you denied him.  Opportunity is handed to you left and right and you reject it.”  He fell backwards with such force that the chair rocked several times before settling.  “Sometimes, in your quest to rule the world, you need friends.  I’d suggest being Mr. Stark’s friend.”

“I’m not out to rule the world.  My dad wouldn’t want this.”

“This is your company now, Sam,” Ed said, and wondered how in holy hell he still hadn’t figured that out.  “Maybe you should start thinking about what _you_ want instead of pretending to know what your father wanted.  You have a chance to be something more and you’d rather be nothing.  I think you’re an idiot.”

Sam leaned forward, even at a few feet away, closer to Ed than Ed really wanted him to be.

“Come on, Ed, you know what’s going to happen.  Stark’s going to stick his fingers in my business and he’s going to throw his weight around and make demands and we’re going to become a division of Stark Industries.”

The programmer was quiet a moment, speculating how much his paycheck would increase after such a takeover.  He pushed glasses up the bridge of his nose and folded arms across his chest.

“How many times are we going to repackage the same OS?  I’m embarrassed by this bullshit.  Stark Industries deals in self-sustainable energy, robotics -”

“Weaponry.”

“In the past.”  Ed grunted.  “What does ENCOM have that they could possibly weaponize?  Don’t be stupid.”

Sam let out a deep breath; said nothing.

“Flynn knew the importance of spreading influence; in creating partnerships.  He was in talks with Aperture Science, RobCo -”

“RobCo?”  Sam jerked forward and Ed found himself pressed into the back of his seat.  “What would my dad want with an arms producer?”

“That wasn’t always their business.”  Ed looked at him with a side-eye; thought his entire life until today that this was common knowledge.  “They also develop AI and operating systems, ones, I spitefully admit, that far surpass anything we’ve done at ENCOM.  Flynn was ready to strike a deal when he disappeared and the whole thing fell through.  RobCo eventually switched focus and never publically released their OS.  Even today, that data would be worth having.”

“It’s really that advanced?”

“There’s one in the basement.”

Sam waited for an explanation and when none came, had no choice but to ask dumbly, “One what?”

Ed shrugged, and the answer was matter-of-fact:  “A robot.”

__________

The elevator brought them underground to a storage area full of cabinets and dusty old computers and decades-old research that would never again be relevant.  They headed for a back corner, to a tall figure draped in a sheet that Sam would have mistaken for another piece of worthless furniture.

Ed whipped the cover away, almost with too much glee as it suffocated Sam from the dust that fell with it.

“They sent this test model back in ’81,” Ed informed before disappearing behind it.  “Flynn didn’t have much time to find a use for it, but I’m sure you’ll recognize its potential.”

Sam circled the machine, with a metal barrel of a body, arcade game claws for hands, and an old television jammed into the middle of what would be its abdomen.  It rested on a single wheel like a unicycle and Sam muttered, “It’s like a junkyard version of GizmoDuck.”

The robot jerked and wheezed when Ed popped energy cells into its power source.  The monitor flickered, screen refreshing then steadying, revealing a grinning cartoon face shaded in black and white.

“This is Yes Man.”

“Wow, it’s great to see you!”  Yes Man turned towards Ed, entirely too excitable.  “Do we know each other?  Please forgive me, your face just seems forgettable.”

Ed moved to the side, unwilling to answer.  Sam regarded him and he avoided eye contact.  “Why _Yes Man_?”

The robot’s arm whipped forward like an angry drunk, gears in much need of oiling.  “I've been programmed to agree with you!  The name really is clever.  Most people don't have trouble making the connection, but don’t feel bad!  That was obviously my fault.  I should have been clear on that from the start.  I’ll do better next time.”

The screen refreshed again and Yes Man stilled, relaxing once the monitor fixed itself.

“Have you really let me sit here rusting for 20 years?  Gosh, that can't be right!  I should get my software fixed.  I mean, why would anyone ever neglect such an expensive, advanced piece of super technology?  I certainly don’t know!”

By this point Sam was intrigued enough to step forward to take a closer look.  The robot wasn’t pretty and its build didn’t seem practical, but there was something mysterious about it, like a mechanical fortune teller at a carnival.

“I’m Sam Flynn.”

“Are you related to Kevin Flynn?”

“I’m his son.”

“Well, isn’t that wonderful!  They tell me reproduction is one of the greatest joys in a human’s life.”  Yes Man paused long enough to give an airy sigh.  “I think it’s nice when people are thrilled by the commonplace.”

A grin stretched across Sam’s mug and he told Ed, “This is incredible.”

 “I _know_ ,” was the reply, icy, as if Sam bandwagoned Ed’s favorite underground artist.

“Why aren’t there a million of these things?”

“In the early ‘90s, the company abandoned a lot of projects or repurposed their technology.  The founder thought it more important to prepare for war.”

Sam looked back, surprised.  “What, Desert Storm?”

“Nuclear.”

Sam nodded slowly.  “So he’s a nutjob.”

“Depends on if you think preparing for one of the most potentially devastating events is crazy.”

Sam rolled eyes which made it obvious that was exactly what he thought.  A hand ran down the rough metal of the robot’s body and Sam resisted the urge to press the brightly colored buttons on its arm.

“How smart is he?”

Yes Man interjected, “I know what I need to know and don’t share with others what I’m not supposed to know.  I think that’s a good way to live, don’t you?”

This was beyond anything Sam could create; AI that may match the intelligence of the Program running it.  His stomach flipped in excitement, mind racing with the possibilities of utilizing such technology.  If he could connect it to the Grid, he could communicate with Programs while still User-side, perhaps even upload them into the robot to give them a physical body.  He could bring them into the Real World without the risk of actually pulling them from the Grid.

He tapped fingers against his leg, unable to hide his interest.

“Will they still do business with us - RobCo?”

“They wanted the mind of Kevin Flynn,” Ed stated flatly.  “You’re not your father, let’s just be honest,” he added, and the sweetness of his voice made Sam’s jaw clench.  “Though, having big players like Stark Industries on your team makes ENCOM look more desirable.”

A frown tugged at Sam’s lips.  “Maybe we should just take this guy apart; reverse engineer it.”

“That’s illegal,” Ed spat.

“It’s also barbaric,” commented Yes Man.  “But who’s worried about that?  Those kinds of people _have_ had a great impact on history.  Take Nazis, for example.”

“I’m not selling my soul to Stark.”

Ed countered, “Then you’ve no chance of dealing with RobCo,” and he didn’t seem concerned.

Teeth pressed into the young CEO’s lip.  He wasn’t making this decision now.

“Bring it upstairs, would you?  Just lock it in my office.  I got somewhere I gotta be tonight.”

“The arcade?” Ed drawled and Sam gave a wry smile.  “What do you do there all the time?”

Sam glanced over his shoulder as he reached the elevator, lips curled in a way that inexplicably got under Ed’s skin.

“Play video games.”

__________

Ed entered Sam’s office and Yes Man followed, bobbing up and down on his flat tire.  The robot parked himself near a window, grin wide and unchanging, and Ed watched, finding the thing increasingly unnerving.

He paced the room because he could, stared at pictures on Sam’s walls and poked a plant to see if it was real.  The top drawer of Sam’s desk was full of pens and paperclips and generally uninteresting.  Waking the computer was tempting, though he knew he’d have to hack it and hadn’t committed to being that invasive yet.

Ed sighed and let his head fall against his shoulder.  A business card caught his eye, stuck under the keyboard.  Stark Industries was dashed across the top in red, the company phone and web address at the bottom.  Flipping to the other side, he found blue ink – and a handwritten cell number.

He mulled it over for a good minute, out of courtesy more than anything.  He should at least consider ruining Sam’s day before he actually did it.

Ed made himself comfortable in Sam’s chair and reached for Sam’s phone, movements relaxed and voice cool.

“Hello, Mr. Stark.  This is Edward Dillinger, Jr. on behalf of ENCOM.  I’m calling to arrange your meeting with Mr. Flynn.”

Ed poked his cheek with his tongue.  In the corner, Yes Man’s monitor glowed as he smiled encouragingly.


End file.
